


Next to Me

by cloudsongs



Category: Switched at Birth (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsongs/pseuds/cloudsongs
Summary: The life and friendship of Daphne Vasquez and Emmett Bledsoe from the very beginning. No "switched at birth" plot.





	1. Prologue

Daphne Vasquez stepped back, wide-eyed and surprised when the young boy with fiery red hair stood next to her, back straight as a ruler, mouth open as wide as it could stretch. The way he moved, she could tell he was screaming -the way the other third-grade girls were staring back, then turning to run the opposite direction told her he must have been screaming. He stepped forward as if to chase after the girls but stopped a few feet away instead raising his fist in the air in a way that reminded Daphne of movie scenes where the character would yell, "AND STAY OUT!"

After a good minute of watching the girls run away, the boy turned to face Daphne. He had the biggest grin on his face. He lifted one hand to his chest and then tapped his two fingers and quickly moved his right fingers and mouthed some words. Daphne watched him, mesmerized by the quick motions of his hand. She knew from that moment, everything would change.


	2. Chapter 1

Mr. Bailey had it out for Daphne Vasquez. There was no doubt about it. Ever since she'd unwisely smarted him in class about a point he'd mentioned about Neanderthals and Emmet Bledsoe chose that exact moment to claim that Mr. Bailey shouldn't have made a mistake about something he clearly was. It wasn't Daphne's fault. All she'd done was try to insure her classmates were getting correct information and all Emmett had wanted…well he'd just seen it as another chance to get on a teacher's nerves which would, in turn, get on Cameron's nerves. It was a harmless form of revenge and Daphne definitely didn't deserve the severe punishment that came with it.

Daphne had actually been really excited about the project; they had to construct a model to submit to the annual Carlton science fair and Daphne wanted to make an exact replica of a chosen dinosaur using the credited research she was already mulling over possible sources for. She had been so excited she'd volunteered to be the one student to do the project on her own. However, still upset over her outburst, weeks ago she might add, Mr. Bailey had other plans.

"And Mr. Bledsoe," Mr. Bailey signed, "since you have found it necessary to become Ms. Vasquez's backbone, you can be her partner for this assignment." She turned around knowing full well that the angry vibration of a stomp she felt came from the seat closest to the front of the room.

And if her mother hadn't scolded her before for combative behavior, Daphne would've thrown a tantrum. She would've stood up and demanded a reassignment and, had she known those words she'd heard the older kids spew, she would've cursed the man in the tacky, bland suit at the front of the room, enjoying her discomfort.

But instead, Daphne rolled her eyes, cursed her luck and refused to look at the back of the room. Emmett shrugged his shoulders and continued drawing a rather rude picture of Mr. Bailey kissing Principal Rose's ass. He didn't care who his partner was; it wasn't like he'd have to do anything. Every time someone got paired up with him, they assumed he would be a liability or a mooch. They figured it would be less of a hassle to just sign his name than piss him off.

Despite this known fact, Daphne Vasquez stopped at Emmett's desk when class ended and dropped a folded piece of notebook paper on top of his artwork with a heartfelt sigh. Knowing it would make him sweat, Emmett didn't open it until Daphne left the room. In the little note, in painstakingly neat handwriting was Daphne's home address and phone number.

Emmett lifted his head in confusion, scanning the empty room for some sign that this was a joke. But he'd watched that Vasquez kid and she wouldn't know a prank unless someone provided a Webster definition and drew a diagram. He packed his thin bag and left the room, a little ashamed to have written off the one person that hadn't done the same to him.

After a week of no contact with Daphne, Emmett was sitting at home, eating Sugar Crisps and watching cartoons on the living room couch when Cameron and his mom started shouting. Well, signing very furiously. Emmett probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't looked over the top of the couch to see if the microwave had beeped to indicate his hot cocoa was ready. He sighed and kicked at the pillow in vain, succeeding only in knocking it off the sofa and onto the floor. He'd just mustered enough annoyance to get off the couch and retrieve it when his mother shuffled in and eyed him curiously.

"Honey, don't you have something you could be doing? Homework, maybe?" she asked, obviously a little frazzled. This was the part he hated most about when his parents fought. They treated him like he was some stupid kid, like he somehow hadn't seen, or understood what they said. Cameron expected him ignore the obvious.

And he loved his mom, sometimes, he thought, more than Cameron. It hurt to lie. "Uh…yeah. I'm supposed to be doing some project with some kid on East Riverside."

His mother grimaced and quickly signed, "Terrible place." She smiled sadly at him and grabbed her large, ugly, brown purse and her sun hat. "It's not too far and it's a nice day. I'll walk you." It really wasn't; Emmett was sure it would be _at least_ a two mile walk just to get to East Riverside and then who knows how much longer to get to Daphne's house. Then she practically threw them both out of the house into the noisy, crowded streets.

They walked side-by-side and Emmett guessed his mother believed ignorance made him an invalid because she tucked his shirt in for him and licked his hair back like a toddler. As she walked, she signed: about anything really. She talked about Cameron's job at the office, about her work as the counselor, about his grandmother and her illness, about his chores, his homework, and his future. She did all this without looking at him once to see if he had anything to reply with. When he finally reached Daphne's home, a small haven compared to the grungy environment they had walked through for the past half mile, his mind was reeling. Melody kissed his forehead and took squeezed his hands. She then hugged herself tightly. "I love you, Emmet." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He ran down the small porch and knocked on Vasquez's door and by the time Mrs. Vasquez answered the door and his mother was down the street, he realized with jarring clarity what she'd told him. Cameron would be staying with his sister for a while. She was telling him he'd be leaving for a while but deep down, in a pit of his heart, it felt like he wasn't coming back.

Mrs. Vasquez seemed like a kind enough woman, but Emmett wasn't in the mood for kind. For once, he found himself speechless. But he wasn't a baby; he was a man now. He was twelve for Christ's sake; he wasn't going to run to a corner and cry. Especially not in front of Daphne's mom, and especially not in front of Daphne.

"So, you're Emmett Bledsoe?" Mrs. Vasquez signed and spoke out loud. Emmett wanted to roll his eyes. _So, she's hearing._ "Do you remember me? You saved my little Daphne from those bullies when she went to that hearing school. You're the reason Daphne and I started learning sign and getting her started at Carlton."

Emmett awkwardly looked around the foyer, right next to the small space for dining, never having great experiences with adults. He _did_ remember. Daphne had been standing there with her book bag on the sidewalk staring head on to the group of girls who were laughing at her and taunting her. He hadn't even thought twice before he ran towards the girls and screamed with as much force as his little eight-year-old body could muster. It was the first time he could remember purposely making a sound. The world was still silent, but he knew something was happening -his throat hurt, and the girls looked like they were screaming too as they ran away. He had tried making a sound towards Daphne, but she immediately touched her ears and shook her head. Emmett, not knowing what else to do, grabbed her hand and her backpack and walked all the way to his home. The rest seemed vague and fuzzy in his head. He remembered his mother had asked him to be friends with Daphne and help her at school but for some reason the bright, wide eyes and the happy go lucky grin of the strawberry blonde girl rubbed him the wrong way. They'd been going to the same school for almost four years now and he still couldn't say that he knew much about her. "I don't remember."

Mrs. Vasquez smiled still and gently maneuvered Emmett into the kitchen where he was hit with the mouthwatering smell of fresh brownies. He must've been staring at the godsends on the table because she chuckled and fetched a plate from a cabinet and placed it next to the pan. "Take two. They're Daphne's favorite. She's been such a mood lately. I've been getting carpal tunnel trying to keep up with her."

Emmett grinned and took a large bit out of one perfectly proportioned dessert, relishing in the dark-chocolatey goodness. He wasn't particularly fond of dark chocolate but it had been so long since his mom baked anything that he overlooked the whole thing. "These are delicious," he signed with chocolate covered fingers.

Mrs. Vasquez returned his smile and didn't mention anything about his dirty fingers. She went to the short hallway and entered the room all the way in the back. From where Emmett stood, he could see Mrs. Vasquez sign, "Sweetheart, your science partner is here and you've been cooped up in your room for the past three days! The fresh air will do you good." When she returned, Emmett was on his second brownie and contemplating whether or not he could get away with a third. She frowned a little at the self-conscious look on his face and shook her head. "Go for it, take as many as you like. Daphne's been eating too much of it anyway. Wouldn't be good for her health."

Emmett hungrily reached for another brownie after another moment of hesitation. It wasn't like he'd never had freshly baked brownies before, it'd just been a while. Apparently, it had been longer than he realized because he'd polished off five more before Daphne came down the hall with green paint plastered to her pale forehead and cheek. Given everything her mother slipped, Emmett could've easily come up with something vicious to say to Daphne to embarrass her, make her cry; she'd certainly been given the ammunition. For one, he could start off with the fact that Daphne and Mrs. Vasquez did not resemble each other one bit. Or the fact that she had a hearing mother. But he didn't want to go home right now. Not when he had brownies and a calm conversation he didn't necessarily have to respond to.

"So…" Daphne sighed, shifting her small weight from foot to foot, a critical look on her face. Emmet found himself wondering whether the kid ever smiled, outside of getting a teacher's praise. "Are we going to work on _our_ project, or what?"

"Daphne," her mother admonished. "Change your tone."

Light brows furrowed, Daphne tried again. "Are you ready to work?"

Mrs. Vasquez stepped forward and examined her face, tilting it erratically from the left to the right, upward and downward. "Go wash your face first then you can work." She marched her in the direction she'd come from before returning.

Mrs. Vasquez smiled at him again, wiping her hands on her apron. Opening the fridge, she began to pour him a glass of cold milk, his favorite, but his mom didn't even have the time to know that. She placed it next to him on the table and fetched a brownie for herself. "So, Emmett, I hear you're quite the trouble maker…. You seem alright to me." She winked at him, taking a bite.

And with that, Emmett decided he liked it here.

* * *

Daphne wasn't pleased with the way the paint on his dinosaur looked too much like plastic and not scales. She had spent so long mixing colors to see if she could find the perfect shade of green but to no avail. And she certainly wasn't pleased with the way Emmett Bledsoe came strolling into her room with chocolate covered fingers, dirt-tracking sneakers, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. She'd been working furiously on this project for the last four days, alone she might add, and Emmett hadn't done anything to help. Granted, she should've expected it; she'd heard from everyone else Emmett had been partnered with that he preferred to be a silent bystander. Yet he was still one of the most popular kids in school. What injustice.

But then again, Emmett had never come to their houses. Before she could feel accomplished in this feat, she reasoned Emmett had probably just been bored at home doing whatever kids like him did by themselves. Like smoking or sneaking into arcades and all those other things her mother would give her hell for.

So, she put Emmett to work. Put him in charge of mixing the material for the paper mache while she cut strips of old newspapers she collected (stole) from the neighbors. They worked in silence (mostly), Daphne focused on her project and Emmett, grateful for a task to keep his mind off his mother's departure. Before they realized, three hours had passed, and Mrs. Vasquez was asking Emmett if he planned on staying for dinner or if his parents were expecting him. Knowing Cameron, he probably hadn't realized Emmett had left. That or he thought he was out with his mother who'd bring him back for dinner, that the three of them would sit down until Cameron would inevitably be called in to work. But he figured that would even be a possibility anymore if he was leaving.

But Emmett didn't mention any of this, choosing instead to lie. "Yeah, my mom's expecting me." He turned to face Daphne, his eyes lowering with every sign. "I'll see you later –"

"Tomorrow, you mean?" Daphne asked just defiant and forceful enough that her mother wouldn't scold.

He looked up and their eyes met for the first time since that day four years ago, curiosity present in her gaze. Daphne's eyes looked nothing like her mother's but were a lot like them. They reflected kindness and honestly, not that he'd ever tell her, a gentle soul. But, the most astonishing of all, they looked expectant and challenging. He felt as if, for once, someone expected him to finish something he started; not because he was supposed to or because his parents were making him…but because this kid, the overly tense, incredibly tiny Daphne Vasquez, needed his help and was depending on him for assistance. And whether he liked it or not, he was not getting out of this partnership.

The sheer challenge made Emmett question whether he even wanted to try.

And what the hell, he'd been less alone in Daphne's still presence than the cacophony of flailing arms at his house. "Yeah, Daphne," he swirled his finger as if to make a tornado, something fitting from the look in her eye, "I'll be here tomorrow." He started towards the door before throwing over his shoulder, "for the brownies."


	3. Chapter 2

Two weeks of working together with Emmett Bledsoe and Daphne was ready to strangle him. She'd begun planning the crime and just what she would say on the court stand. She's assure the jury it wasn't just one of Emmett's annoying little traits, it was _all_ of them. Sure, they'd begun their partnership in a somewhat efficient stillness. Daphne would assign their tasks; Emmett would nod and roll his eyes before setting to work. They'd worked this way for a few days and Daphne had begun wondering if her classmates had been completely wrong about Emmett.

Emmett hadn't outwardly complained about having to work, he hadn't slacked off at all, he even chose to work when Daphne had taken breaks to eat, do chores, and dribble the basketball outside. He arrived at her house when he said he would, sometimes even an hour early. Silvia Salander, one of the only girls that she regularly talked to, tried to credit Emmett's mom, a counselor of the school, for his promptness but Daphne shut her down, having noticed since that first day, Emmett always walked to her house with same pair of shoes and a thin, holey jacket despite the chilly weather. Even on the day it poured buckets and her mother worried aloud that 'that Bledsoe boy' would catch pneumonia in 'this hurricane rain'.

But that period had been too good to be true. Eventually, Emmett made it clear that his docile, compliant, even pleasant behavior was all an act. A temporary state before he unleashed his true, annoying tendencies that Daphne swore came straight from Satan himself to ruin any chance she had at finishing her three-week sentence with any semblance of sanity.

It wasn't that Emmett was constantly around to show her up in praising her mother's good cooking, or the way he managed to get tasks that took Daphne two hours done in less than thirty minutes, or the way he knew how to create artistically impressive decals for the dinosaur's features that blew Daphne's mind with viciously jaded spikes of envy. It wasn't the way he "babbled" incessantly about the latest films he'd watched or the way he went through her music and pretended to drum along to whatever beat he could feel through the headphones. It wasn't even the immense irritation Daphne felt after Emmett used both fingers to sign her name making it seem like he was saying "tornado" instead of "Daphne."

If Daphne had to guess what the most annoying part of being Emmett Bledsoe's partner was, he'd guess it was the fact that she was starting to get used to it.

After the rain that day, her mother has begun to insist Daphne brought Emmett home with her after school. She refused furiously and adamantly until her mother attacked her one weakness, claiming that she'd take away her basketball and music until she was willing to be kinder. After that, she begrudgingly approached Emmett and withstood the confused stares his friends gave her. She'd taken a huge gulp of air and pawned the blame on her mother and Emmett's lost puppy features. "My mom thinks you should walk home with me," she began, shifting from foot to foot and waiting for Emmett to say something. Emmett's friends were grinning broadly which burned her cheeks. "So, I'll wait for you on the front steps after school." When Emmett didn't respond, she rolled her eyes and regretted every agreeing to ask. It was a few moments before Emmett looked her in the eye, a strange look on his face. "Okay?"

Emmett had nodded, and his eyes lowered to a frayed edge of his shirt sleeve. "Yeah, okay. I'll have to ask my dad," he started to tell Daphne but she was already halfway back to her usual table with Silvia Salander.

That day, at the risk of appearing too eager, Emmett forced himself to walk the straight edges of the tiled floor to the front door, taking an extra twenty minutes after school. It had the unfortunate side effect of pissing Daphne off but succeeded in maintaining his role as an unwilling participant in Daphne's grade. And when their public bus finally stopped near the neat one-story home, Emmett was willing to bet Daphne was already over it because she didn't even scowl when Emmett got the first cookie of the batch. She did laugh when Emmett burned his tongue, but so did he.

At the two-week mark, Emmett had been increasingly annoying. Daphne figured something must've changed because Emmett babbled even more than usual. They'd developed a routine of eating Mrs. Vasquez's (and sometimes Adrianna's) delicious snacks, hurrying down the hallway to work on their project; Emmett had named it The Tornado after 'Daphne's evil alter ego', where they would stay for four hours and Daphne consider dropping out before she lost her mind. Now, Emmett had taken to sitting on the small kitchen stool and helping Mrs. Vasquez with whatever she happened to be making. Daphne didn't want to admit to watching the two sign but she knew she worked twice as fast with Emmett's infuriating assistance than without it, so she'd sit by the edge of the hallway and watch in on their conversations.

Sometimes, Emmett would ask how Mrs. Vasquez was doing, where Mr. Vasquez was since he'd never seen him till now, and Mrs. Vasquez would admit that Mr. Vasquez has been gone for a long time. Emmett would not ask again, not knowing completely sure what it mean, but knowing it made Mrs. Vasquez upset. Daphne later told him that her father was obviously a deadbeat who ran off when he found out she became deaf. But mostly, he would talk about his mom and something she'd done this week, or years ago. Daphne's mother always looked pleased and welcomed Emmett's company, encouraging him to go on when he spoke about his mother and father, teaching him baking tips and distracting him with tasks when his signing got weaker. Afterwards, she'd thank him for his help to an extent that made Daphne feel guilty and a bit jealous. She was _her_ mother and Emmett was showing her up, again.

Once, Daphne had felt so bothered, she asked her mother why Emmett couldn't just go home and speak to his own mother. To her surprise, she eyed with reproach before explaining, "Daphne, have you considered the possibility that he can't?" Her mother mumbled something without signing it and Daphne barely caught the words "even though his mother's a shrink."

That confused her and sent a strange daunting feeling through the pit of her stomach. After all, she'd always been able to tell her mom everything. Even the stuff about people picking on her messing up her signs. "What do you mean, he can't?"

At this, the frown on her mother's face was replaced with a soft smile as she pulled her into a hug complicated by the inches she'd never grown. "Sweet-child, not everyone's mama is like yours. Keep that in mind." She pushed her towards their dining table to set it for dinner. "And kicking his ass," she said, surprising Daphne with her words, "Be glad I've got someone to cook with, that's more time you have to yourself." Daphne grinned.

That night, after dinner, her mother told Daphne to invite Emmett and his family to dinner the next night and she didn't even question it.

* * *

Emmett failed to mention the dinner invitation to his mom until he was sure he had work aligned or a "prior engagement" like he usually does. He knew his intentions were obvious, but his mother didn't look the least bit upset. If anything, she looked regretful. Like she'd noticed the amount of time Emmett was spending with the Vasquez's rather than at home, in their large, empty house, she didn't mention it. His father had been back for a few days earlier in the week. He wanted it to seem like he'd spent the night but after he'd left, Emmett had taken to sleeping less at night and more at school. He'd been wide-awake on his couch in the front room when he'd sneaked out of the house.

He wished he could feel hurt or even angry that they were lying to him, but he was too excited she'd been home period to feel anything other than that joy of feeling accomplished. Like he finally had something Daphne had; he could have some part of normal and he could prove it. After spending so much time with _Tornado_ –he had to remember to keep calling her that as the glare on Daphne's face had become a delight in his day –family and seeing what he could have. What he was supposed to have. And he couldn't keep stealing Daphne's mom from her, even if Daphne didn't seem to appreciate what she had.

He walked home with Daphne that afternoon in cargo pants and collared shirt, a couple buttons improperly clipped nonetheless, but still a nice shirt. Daphne was quieter than usual, her step a few strides behind Emmett's and Emmett felt a small sliver of embarrassment. Maybe the dinner had just been Regina (as Mrs. Vasquez begged him to call her) idea and he wasn't actually wanted. He'd thought maybe Daphne and he had been on the track to becoming friends, despite all the jokes jabbed at Daphne…or at least acquaintances, or maybe people that could stand being in a room for longer than an hour without throwing things at each others' heads. Sure, he acknowledged that he could be a handful, not the easiest person to know. He had farfetched and far-flung ideas that got him, and often-unwilling participants, in trouble along with him when he put them in action. But he hadn't even been around Daphne long enough to get her into trouble. He hadn't tainted her yet. Regina could testify to that. And if his mother were still around ( _she's coming back_ , he reminded himself), she'd testify to it too. And if wasn't like Daphne didn't already get herself into enough trouble. Just the other day, some of Emmett's friends were poking fun at Chubby Susie while she wailed out loud in school yard and Daphne barreled down the path and butted straight into Johnny Wilkins and flailed her arms around to hit as many boys as she possibly could for making Susie cry. In the end, Emmett ended up dragging Daphne home, not bothered in the slightest when Daphne staggered into him when they reached the halfway mark.

Deciding to just get it over with, Emmett walked a few steps to close to the girl lost in her thoughts, playfully knocking into her. "What's up, Daphne (Tornado)? Worried about _the Tornado_ being on his own for too long? We've raised him well and I'm sure he won't fall into a bad crowd."

He was shocked when that got a small smile out of the usually tense kid. "No, I'm sure he's fine. I'm still not sure why he's a he." She tilted her head and pursed her lips before giving way to her curiosity. "I wanted to ask you something."

Emmett grinned and bumped Daphne to the side with his hip again. Daphne stumbled a little. "Yes, Daphne, I am an alien, and yes, I have come to Earth to crawl inside of you and take your role as a boring, straight-A student with no social life. I've been observing for quite some time and now I think I'll be good enough that no one will suspect a thing."

That one earned an actual, nervous, laugh; Daphne's eyes bright and yet, still uneasily curious. "I knew it. Wait till I tell everyone I was right."

Emmett nodded thoughtfully, knowing Daphne was trying to find a polite time to ask what must be either an uncomfortable or unpleasant request of him. Maybe she was going to use this dinner as a nice way of saying, "Hey, Emmett, it's been great but once this project is over, I'll be glad to never see you again" or "Is it okay to pretend you don't exist after next Thursday?" Either way, Daphne was trying to be kind about it and of course she was; she was a Vasquez. They were so painfully kind even in the face of someone like Emmett Bledsoe, son of Cameron Bledsoe who sometimes ignored tact in favor of faster results.

"What's up, Daphne?" Emmett crossed his arms and lowered his gaze.

It was a moment before she replied and they'd reached the quaint white home and its pebbly walkway when, instead of entering the front door, Daphne chose to instead plop down on the front step. When Daphne did nothing more than a meek glance in his direction, Emmett sighed. Daphne glanced up with a nervous quirk of an eyebrow when Emmett stood before her, leaning against the railing. "Why don't you ever talk to me about stuff?"

Which threw Emmett for a pleasantly unexpected loop. "What?"

Daphne squinted up at him and clarified. "You spend a lot of time talking to my mom, like an hour a day but when we go to my room, you never talk about anything."

"I talk a lot," he objected, shrugging.

Daphne grinned. "Yeah, you do. But it's never _about_ anything. I asked my mom once and she said it's because you don't have people to talk to." At that, Emmett looked stricken and embarassed, so Daphne hurriedly went on. "And so, I thought, you could talk to me, but you never do. Well, I mean you do, but it's never about anything."

Emmett was silent, for once. His head lowered and with barely stifled growl he started off towards the end of the street without a word.

Emmett didn't come over the next few days. When Daphne stood outside the first day, she waited forty-five minutes before Silvia Salander told her Emmett had skipped the last period and took the bus home. Daphne almost marched back into the school to tell on him to his mom but thought twice of it. She waited the next day for thirty minutes before one of Emmett's friends told her Emmett had told him to tell her he wasn't feeling too well and had to go home right after school. She didn't wait at all the next day. She'd later rationalize that she was just angry at Emmett for abandoning their project, but they'd been pretty much finished anyway. And at that point, Emmett had earned his name on the project even more than Daphne had, in big letters if she was honest.

If she was truly being honest, she was angry with herself. What had she been thinking? Asking Emmett to talk to her, and about his feelings nonetheless? Emmett didn't need a shoulder to cry deeply into, and even if he did, what made Daphne think he'd want it to be her shoulder? But even that thought irritated her; Emmett was willing to spend hours talking to Daphne's mother, _her_ mother about actual things and then reserved everything _stupid_ and _trivial_ , as Mr. Bailey said, for Daphne.

And maybe that was what really irked her. Listening in on the converations Emmett had in her kitchen while her mother cooked delicious dinners, Daphne knew Emmett had a lot to say. He spoke about the way he hated his father for working so much and being gone all the time, but the revere in his tone belied the respect Emmett had for his father and the support he had given his mother to be a counselor. The way he admired her mom's culinary wizardry belied his nostalgia for when his own family spent time together to make dinners. The way Emmett's voice would become wistful and small when he spoke about his father at all, belied that he hadn't been around lately.

Daphne was jealous, and the realization hit her like a train. She was jealous of her mother. After all, Daphne would spend three, sometimes four more hours alone with Emmett a day than her but her mom got to know Emmett better than she ever would. How pathetic did that make her?

Apparently pathetic enough to lie to Mrs. Collingsworth about having a bad headache days later and skip the rest of her class. She'd heard from a reliable source, Mrs. Jensen in the front office, Emmett had physical education as his last class. She stealthily romanced the empty halls until she saw the familiar firey hair that only belonged to Emmett down the hall. She pressed her body as hard as possible into the wall as Emmett rounded the corner. She waited until Emmett was sufficiently far enough down the hall to follow him. And as she left the school grounds, before the bell, her conscience kept pointing out; she realized she'd never found out where Emmett lived. She assumed it wasn't far because he walked to and from school all the time and took a local bus.

Daphne had just been contemplating how stupid her plan had been with her lungs already burning when, fifteen minutes into it, Emmett rounded a street corner and promptly disappeared. She spun around abruptly and searched the street for any sign of the bright red hair or black backpack when a sharp weight shoved her roughly onto the sidewalk. Grass stains were the last of her problems as Emmett angrily glared down at her.

"Hey, Emmett. How are you?" she signed weakly.

Emmett's brow furrowed, and he reluctantly rolled off of the girl struggling for air. It had just been Daphne. She was harmless and looking at her now, slowly getting to her feet, he felt a little bad for overreacting. But then again, he should've known that nobody else owned a neon yellow backpack like she did. And he was a little surprised at the weightless feeling in the pit of his stomach stubbornly pulling a grin from the corners of his mouth.

"Stop following me." Starting down the sidewalk, he wasn't the least surprised to feel Daphne's hand slap onto his shoulder. He brushed her hand off but she continued to put it back until they were five minutes away from his house. "Go home, Daphne, your mom's going to be worried." He signed Daphne's name correctly and his single finger twirling in the air felt right.

Normally a mention of her mother's shaky nerves was enough to send Daphne on her way but this time, she stood her ground and she looked a bit ridiculous in mud-stained jeans and a filthy top. "No, I won't be ignored."

They stood a few feet apart, arms crossed, and eyes locked in a test of wills until a minute twitch of Daphne's brow and a tiny quirk in Emmett's lip led to a breakdown in unrestrained laughter. Emmett threw his head back and a woman walking past them with her purse clutched to her chest stopped to stare at the two kids soundlessly laughing. When they finally regained control, they sat together in front of Emmett's house.

They were still for a while before Emmett signed, "I'm really sorry I left that day. Was Regina mad?"

Daphne shook her head and scratched at the stubborn stain on her knee. "No, not at you anyway." She leaned her weight into Emmett's shoulder, barely nudging the older boy. "I suspect your alien powers have made her like you more than me."

Emmett grinned and peaked at Daphne from underneath his eyelashes. "Yes! My plan is working." He waited a moment before pulling his knees up to his chest and dropping his chin on top of them. "Why would you follow me anyway?"

And Daphne wanted to say that she missed Emmett, that she was angry at herself for being such a needy crybaby, that she felt like Emmett was the first real friend she'd had, and she wasn't even sure that Emmett had been aware. Instead, she tried for a big smile. "It's too much work without you. The Tornado needs two parents."

Emmett lowered his eyes to his feet, his lashes fluttering for a moment before he nodded somberly, sniffing quietly. And Daphne bit her lip at the sudden sight of tears trailing down Emmett's face. It was strange, but other than children, Daphne had never seen anyone cry; let alone Emmett, the strongest person she knew next to her mother. He seemed so small, so unlike the boy that had tackled her to the ground moments ago.

Emmett wiped angrily at his face before staring up to study the laces of his shoes. "Okay." He shook his head and wiped at his face again in determination before standing up, growing taller as he did, indestructible. "If the Tornado needs two parents, he's got them." He extended a hand to Daphne and pulled her up. "Is that dinner invitation still open?"

Daphne knew better than to say so without consulting her mother, but she figured she made enough for them to share with a third person anyway, and if she had to, she'd just eat less. "Of course, you have to meet the in-laws." She winked. Some part of her brain told her that statement sounded strange, but she ignored it.

As they took the bus to Daphne's house, she reasoned she could let Emmett call her the dame of their "parenthood," steal of her mother's time, and call her "tornado" all he wanted if it meant never having to see tears on Emmett's face again


	4. Chapter 4

Daphne’s first kiss wasn’t at all what she thought it would be. She was the experimental one; ‘the nerd’ Emmett always called her in affectionate, teasing signs. Emmett never wanted to be a part of her tests unless there was the possibility something might blow up. And after that one experiment with pebbles and rubber bands that resulted in Daphne’s first head injury, her first time being grounded, and many other firsts too painful to think about, she’d stopped letting Emmett’s brand of science entice her.

            So, when she spent the night at the Bledsoe’s house for the fifteenth time in the gazillion times Emmett had stayed over at her house, watching Deafenstein for what must have been the hundredth time, Daphne was pretty thrown for a loop when Emmett suggest it. “You want to do what?” Her surprise had overtaken her that she spoke out loud -something she rarely did with him.

            “I want to kiss you,” he signed just as quickly as the first time and took a nervous sip from his soda.

            Daphne was sure he was joking. He had to be. Daphne glanced around the room to make sure they were alone, and this wasn’t some prank. Why would he want to kiss Daphne of all people? Emmett had loads of girls he knew from school and from other extracurriculars. Why didn’t he want to kiss one of them? “Why?”

            Emmett met her eyes with slight self-consciousness. “I never have before.”

            “Exactly, why start now?” Daphne wasn’t quite sure why she was so terrified, but she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she had a pretty clear idea why. She could blame it on nerves if the way her palms got sweaty every time Emmett smiled at her with that mischievous look in his eyes, she was nervous for a different reason entirely. “I know three people that would totally kiss you.” Well four if she was honest but she was allowed to lie once in a blue moon.

            “Can we just do it?” Emmett snapped, sitting up abruptly and knocking aside a pile of cards. “Think of it as…an experiment.”

            “To what purpose? What’s the problem, the hypothesis?” she asked, getting on her knees, close enough to smell the sweet scent of Emmett’s breath.

            Emmett had to think about it before coming up with, “Well, I’ve never kissed you before, that’s the problem. I think it would - _will_ be different from my mom’s kisses.”

            It wasn’t that logical, but then again Emmett’s ideas rarely were. Daphne would later blame adrenaline for propelling forward, hands on Emmett’s thin shoulders and planting a dry, chaste kiss to Emmett’s cheek. She knew that wasn’t the way the older kids did it. It wasn’t even the way her friend Ty did it with his girlfriend. But it was enough to make her stomach do somersaults that left her feeling oddly energized and a little sick.

            Emmett pulled back, cheeks flushed and a small frown on his face. “That wasn’t a real kiss.” Daphne lowered her head in embarrassment because she’d never kissed anyone other than her mother and grandmother.

"How would you know?" she shot back defensively.

“I just do,” Emmett replied, pulling himself taller on his knees. Reaching timidly out for Daphne’s face, his fingers tickled the skin behind her ears. Mimicking him, Daphne did the same, eyes scanning Emmett’s face, unsure of the contemplative look on his face that she would later identify as longing. Close enough to ghost her lips with his whisper, he mouthed, “This is a real kiss.”

Barely there at first, he pressed his parted mouth against Daphne’s closed lips. Emmett paused, not daring to make a move until Daphne slowly let her mouth fall open. Hands moist and dragging along the white cotton of Daphne’s shirt, Emmett pushed himself higher still, deepening the kiss with leverage. Turning his head the way he had done with other girls, he tried it from different angles finding the perfect one to earn a muffled gasp from Daphne. The first slide of Emmett’s tongue was odd, Daphne thought. Not unpleasant, just different and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. Coke tasted like an entire flavor, sickly sweet and just a bit dizzying. It left Daphne wondering how many flavors tasted differently on Emmett’s sly tongue, if she’d ever get to find out.

They separated for air, panting slightly, eyes on the floor until Emmett risked a glance. Ignoring the pleasant tug in his stomach at the sight of Daphne’s lips swollen and red, saying _I did that_. “Was that totally weird?”

Shaking her head adamantly, Daphne licked her lips, and Emmett's eyes widened. "No. Not really." Emmett nodded and lay down on the rug again, head swimming when Daphne followed suit. His skin tingled, hair rising in the space between them. He felt hyperaware, extremely sensitive to the fact that Daphne was lying beside him, not inches away but suddenly too far. Taking in a deep breath as Daphne exhaled, he tried to ignore the itching feeling but the blood was rushing through his body. He sat up on his elbows and looked down on Daphne whose strawberry blonde hair fanned around her head like a halo. He leaned in close, eying Daphne with curiosity and as usual, Daphne knew exactly what he meant.

"You want do it again, don't you?"

"Yeah." He breathed, tongue caught in his teeth. So they did.

It would be years before Emmett tells Daphne about Marie Climment cornering him after second period one day and shoving her tongue down his throat. Daphne, flabbergasted and red with embarrassment that Emmett brought it up, asked him why he'd wanted to do the experiment if he already had the 'conclusion'. Emmett was unable to come up with an excuse other than the simple fact that he just wanted to.

* * *

 Their routine transitioned into high school and Emmett had become so used to the routine, so used to dinners with the Vasquez’s every few days that the one day Daphne wasn’t waiting for him after school, he’d been utterly distraught. He sank down onto the top step for what felt like hours before Silvia walked by and signed to him, “As the designated messenger girl for the two of you, it’s my duty to tell you that Daphne went home after third period with a fever.” Silvia signed “tornado” for Daphne’s name. Part of him was proud that his nickname had finally caught on and the second part was strangely self-satisfied. Daphne unwittingly painted a picture of indestructibility. She was never late, never without an answer or explanation, and although she was sick, she always made it to school and dominated the basketball court.

            Emmett began the bus ride home, leaving school earlier than his mother as she had work to catch up with, with a self-satisfied grin on his face before he remembered that two weeks ago, he’d stayed home with the flu and in his annoyed boredom, he’d called Daphne and begged her to come over after school. He played on Daphne’s weakness and claimed he needed to know what school work he missed, knowing full and well what it was, he’d be able to finish it the day it was due.

            Daphne had completely let herself in quietly and appeared at his doorway with a stack of notebooks. Seeing Emmett in bed and underneath the covers, something she never saw, even when they had impromptu sleepovers, Daphne covered her mouth and the color of her shirt and signed anxiously, “Are you sick?”

Emmett had thrown his arms out exasperatedly and replied sarcastically, "No Daphne, I've just decided today would be a good day to freshen up my skills at blowing snot out of my nose, reaching high temperatures and talents for playing solitaire in under ten minutes. Of course I'm sick. Didn't you notice I wasn't at school today?"

"Of course, but I just figured you'd decided to skip." Daphne threw out and took a step further back. "We had a math test today."

"What? I can't see you!” Emmett said, a wicked smile on his face. "Daphne, let go of your shirt. Breathe in the evil, sickening germs of Feverland. Come on, get sick and stay home with me tomorrow. Mom will be gone and Regina will bring us soup and warm, comfy blankets."

Daphne rolled her eyes and ignored Emmett’s enticements. She dropped her color of her shirt and stepped a few feet into his room. “We had a math test today.”

"So, every other answer is C. That's how Ms. Reinheart operates." Emmett settled further into his pillows and crossed his arms behind his head. "Daphne, come, come sit with me."

Daphne glared defiantly and started to back out of the room. “And get pneumonia? I don’t think so.” His vision blurred as Daphne stepped further away and Emmett closed his eyes as he slipped away into total darkness. The absolute stillness in his house felt more overwhelming that before, just as it always did when Daphne left Emmett alone. But as he’d begun fully drifting away, the faint light from the kitchen reached his room and the smell of hot chicken noodle soup lulled him to sleep.

Now, two weeks later, Daphne, Ms. Never-Missed-a-Day-of-School-in-her-Life-even-when-she’s-coughing-up-a-lung was home sick because of Emmett’s selfishness. Oh yeah, he was rubbing off on Daphne, and it’d made her sick, literally. Frowning, Emmett pulled the emergency stop on the bus and got off quickly and began running in the other direction towards Daphne’s house. He knew full and well that if he’d gotten Daphne sick, Daphne would most likely make Regina sick and then Adrianna. He’d infected the family he’d become so dependent on, he was just that contagious.

When he reached the house, he knocked as gently as possible on the door, at the risk Daphne would wake up. Regina appeared at the door, appearing as well as ever, if a little annoyed. Seeing it was Emmett, her face brightened a fraction and she let him in. “Hello, Emmett. Are you here to see Daphne? She’s come down with the flue and a nasty attitude too.”

Emmett cocked an eyebrow. Tense, panicky, anxious, and painstakingly precise, yes, but Daphne was always as polite as possible. In fact, it had taken weeks of being around Emmett for Daphne to finally start arguing against the little annoying things Emmett made her do. “I heard she went home sick and I came to check on her. You know, like she did when I was sick before.”

She nodded and returned to the stove, pouring soup into a bowl on a tray with a couple of crackers and a spoon. "That's terribly sweet of you, I'm afraid she's a bit of a brat when she's sick." She started towards the hallway but Emmett blocked her way and gently took the tray from her hands.

"I'll take it to her. You'll get sick and plus, I've got to fill her in on what happened after Carl Donald fell down the stairs this morning." He smirked brilliantly and carried the tray carefully down the hallway to Daphne's room and stopped outside the partially opened doorway.

A few more moments and Emmett realized with a stuttering laugh that Daphne was braiding her hair in bed. In the two years Emmett had known her, she never seemed the type to put a lot of effort into her appearance other than looking neat. He’d only ever seen her with her hair down straight or in a ponytail. Deciding it was adorable and enough ammo for the next time Emmett was caught in an awkward predicament, he opened the door with his foot and set the tray on the end of Daphne's nightstand. Daphne was sweaty and bundled in a mountain of blankets so thick she was only visible up to her shoulders. Picking up the thermometer, Emmett gently forced Daphne's head back and coaxed the plastic stick into her mouth and under her tongue. He sat on the edge of Daphne's mattress waiting for the reading and frowned at what he saw.

Daphne had stopped braiding, instead she was watching Emmett with a curious, disbelieving look on her bright pink face. Emmett pet her on the shoulder before helping her to sit up. Daphne struggled to take a few deep breaths before a coughing fit started. "Okay Daphne, let's get you up and full of hot soup. I got you sick, so I'll get you better. Maybe after you're done I'll run and get you an ice-pack and some medicine? Break that fever? Sound good?" When Daphne didn't respond, Emmett mentally kicked himself. He was talking at Daphne, the way his mother had when he'd been sick as a boy.

He stayed until Daphne finished most of soup and promptly passed out, her small hands clammy and heated to the touch. Emmett sighed and brought the tray to the kitchen, along with the thermometer reflecting Daphne's fever. He showed it to Mrs. Vasquez, nerves increasing at the frown on her face.

"Is it worse?" he asked, watching as she retrieved the phone and dialed a well memorized number before responding. She put her coat and her shoes.

"A few degrees higher than this morning. Was she having trouble breathing?" she asked, before answering the other line on the phone. "Yes, my daughter, Daphne Vasquez has the flu and it's getting worse." Emmett's heart started to pound a bit faster as Regina gave him a reassuring glance before handing him a bottle of medicine and shooing him down the hallway.

He entered Daphne's room for the second time and instead of feeling at home amongst the many posters of Rye-Rye and The Neon Trees, he felt unwelcome, like a pathogen to Daphne's sanctuary. It was his fault Daphne was tossing and turning, shivering and sweating in her bed. She looked frail, so helpless and it was all Emmett's fault. If he hadn't of been so fucking selfish… he stood there for a moment, guilt shaking the core of his bones before he forced himself forward. Mrs. Vasquez had given him a task and he was going to do it.

He kneeled by Daphne's bed and felt her forehead, having felt his mother do this many times before, noting how warm Daphne was. Emmett's throat locked with apology at the way Daphne pressed her forehead into Emmett's cool palm. He had to try a few times before his soft jabs had her opening her eyes all the way. “Daphne, you need to take your medicine.” Daphne turned her head away from Emmett and pushed at him blindly, making Emmett feel worse than he would have if Daphne had actually punched him in the face. "Come on, buddy. Tasty, tasty… disgusting purple syrup. It'll make you feel better." He laid his palm along the stretch of Daphne's neck, trying to force her to raise her head.

Daphne was murmuring a steady stream of incoherencies Emmett could not read from her lips. He tried to hold the cap of syrup to her lips and she lazily signed, “No, it makes me sick.”

Emmett gave a small smile. "No, babe, I made you sick. Emmett made you sick." He signed to Daphne. He rubbed his fist clockwise on his chest to both say he was sorry and to rub away the guilt building up in his chest.

At that Daphne focused her eyes and looked clearly at Emmett'. "He did. He gave me cooties." And worried sick or not, Emmett would remember this for years to come.

"Yeah." Emmett chuckled, absently stroking the side of Daphne's neck. "You never got your cootie shot. I bet you regret that now, buddy."

The sick teenager gave a small shiver and closed her eyes halfways, leaning into Emmett's hand. "Yeah, I do."

Emmett moved the bottle closed to her and leaned forward to Daphne, so she didn’t have to make such an effort to look at his hands. "But I can give you some medicine now that will help. You'll be better in no time. Breaking hearts left and right." He poured some of the sticky substance onto the spoon and held it steadily, knowing if he dropped even a bit of it, Daphne would make him lick it up.

Daphne shook her head, muttering between short gasps of breath, "No." Emmett took advantage and lowered Daphne's jaw with his thumb and, as gently as possible, forced the medicine in. He ran his fingers down the column of Daphne's feverish neck as she swallowed the foul-tasting liquid.

 _There we go_. He set the spoon and medicine back on the nightstand and sat back on his heels, still running a comforting hand along Daphne's neck.

They remained in silence except for the occasional gasp for air and coughing fit until Daphne opened one eye and said, "Say something." She coughed, roughly and hoarse enough Emmett debated forcing more medicine down her throat because it wasn't working fast enough for his comfort. When it was over, Emmett was surprised to realize the lump in his throat had arisen from alarm. Daphne clenched her eyes shut, her muscles tensing before he continued after what felt like an hour. "Talk to me."

Emmett felt utterly useless. Like he always felt when something had been asked of him and it didn't feel like enough in exchange for what he'd been given. When Regina asked him to help with a chore in exchange for having someone to talk to. When Daphne asked him to play basketball with her for getting to feel what it was like to have a sibling.

"Talk, about what, Daphne? About anything?" That seemed to set off another coughing spell that left Daphne breathless and Emmett speechless for what felt like the second time in his life. He reached his other hand up to cradle Daphne's head through the worst of it, butterflies at the way Daphne welcomed his touch.

"Anything,” she clarified before settling back into the comfort of her pillows and Emmett's warm hands on the sides of her face, now. "Please."

Emmett didn't miss a beat before letting his hands take over and fly because for once Daphne had asked him to. It was the least he could give in exchange for… giving Emmett everything he'd gotten used to living without. "My mom used to tuck me in at night, before it got like it was. She'd call me her 'Little Man' and sometimes when I had to do something important, like help with the 'big kid' chores, she'd call me her 'Little Man' and it made me feel important. Cameron used to take me fishing before I was old enough to realize it was just a whole lot of sitting in still water waiting for nothing. I miss it sometimes but I think we've gotten past the point of being able to sit around without fighting. I never told you this, but I used to have a little sister. Her name was Sheila but she died. My parents started fighting after that. I miss my dad still. He’s at home now but I still feel all alone. I'm pretty sure Chris Donnor wanted to ask you out at the fair last year, how weird is that? Unless you don't think it is, it's just, Daphne, we're freshmen and we can't be that weird yet…"

He spoke for hours about nothing and about everything. He told Daphne secrets he'd kept locked down out of fear of giving Daphne ammunition to embarrass him, or worse, leave and never come back. He talked until his voice and the calm stroking of Daphne's clammy skin lulled them both to sleep.

He woke hours later in the dark of the night having crawled into bed beside Daphne and on top of the covers, his forearm cramped from resting protectively over Daphne’s chest and her heart, feeling her fluttering heartbeats through the night. He was too tired to move but awake enough to see Regina attempting to leave the room. He waved his arm to get her attention.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Emmett could barely make out her hand movements in the dim light. “I spoke to your mother and she said it’s okay for you to stay over.” She crouched down next to the bed.

“Is Daphne going to die?” His hands, facing opposite directions shook.

Regina shook her head and pet his hand gently. “She has the flu, like you did, and I suspect you gave it to her.” At the abashed look on Emmett’s face, she made light of it. “She’ll be fine, Emmett. You know what a fighter she is.”

She gave him one last reassuring smile before turning to leave the room. And Emmett knew what he’d been given hadn’t been deserved. He settled next to Daphne, snuggled by her side. He fell asleep with Daphne’s hand in his and he knew he’s find a way to earn this for real.

* * *

Daphne met Liam Lupo on a Tuesday after Mr. Trainor’s English class, two months after the pilot program where Carlton allowed hearing students to enroll and two months into their sophomore year. It was quite cliché, to say the least, in the way that they met in the cheesiest manner possible. Emmett had convinced Daphne to be his model for the motorcycle he had gotten for his birthday from Cameron and use the camera his mom bought him. He wanted to add those pictures to his bulletin board of what was already maybe close to seventy pictures of Daphne and him. Emmett had excitedly pushed Daphne to the doorway as class ended and inevitably shoved Daphne into a board chest, knocking down the millions of tomes in her hands to the floor.

            Daphne sighed and knelt to the floor to pick them up, apologizing all the way down. “I’m so sorry,” she signed repeatedly, watching as the stranger she’d slammed into knelt down to help.

            Brown eyes beamed brightly at her as he smiled and helped Daphne collect her books. “It’s fine. Really.” Emmett mouth curled at the sight of the guy struggling to make a simple sign for “fine.” “I’m Liam,” he signed each letter slowly, trying to elongate each syllable out loud.

"Daphne," she supplied out loud and signed, ignoring Emmett's scoff in her ear. “You can speak normally. Most of us here are pretty good lip readers.” Daphne smiled sweetly and politely.

Liam held out the rest of Daphne’s things, pausing when his hands found the folder with a large print out of Daphne’s favorite bands taped to the front. “You know Benga and Coki?”

Demurely, Daphne scratched at her neck. “Yeah,” she laughed. “Their beats are strangely satisfying.”

Smirking, Liam explained, "Because it looks like we have something in common. Most of my friends can’t stand it.”

"Except you. And me, apparently." Daphne shot back slyly, and Emmett suddenly didn't like where this seemed to be going. Tugging on the back of Daphne's shirt, he interrupted rather rudely, the way he did when he was in a hurry and Daphne was wasting his time with pleasantries of scolding Emmett on his lack of them.

“Daphne, come on. We have an engagement with a motorcycle and a camera.” He put his arm around Daphne’s back and pushed forward but for once, the shorter girl wouldn’t budge. “Daphne?”

Liam was eyeing Daphne with an expression that would’ve been outlawed in the state of Missouri if Emmett had his way. Everything about his eyes said he was curious, liked what he saw, and wanted more of it. It was the first time Daphne had ever been noticed in such a positive light. It was also the first time Emmett was struck with an innate surge of possessiveness over Daphne.

He decided that he didn’t like Liam within the two seconds he’d ruined his exit. He decided he hated Liam in the two minutes it took him to eye Daphne up and down and flirt shamelessly. He didn’t know that Daphne was naïve and blind as a bat when it came to attraction, especially attraction aimed at her. Emmett was pissed.

The warning light for the next class flashed but for once, Daphne didn’t move. Liam glanced at the quickly filing classroom before turning back to Daphne, a sly look on his face. “I’m actually a student at Buckner Hall so I’m only taking the English class here.” Daphne and Liam gazed at each other for a few more moments before Liam asked, “Can I call you? You know, if you ever want to help me with my sign language?

Emmett rolled his eyes, knowing there was no way Daphne wouldn’t see right through that. “Of course.” Ripping out a sheet of notebook paper, Daphne scrawled her number across the top, followed by her name, in painstakingly neat handwriting that put Emmett right back into the body of that lonely twelve-year-old sitting at the back of the classroom. “Or-or I can meet with you,” she said just as Liam handed her a paper of his own with his number.

Emmett didn’t notice how closely he was pressed against Daphne, the hand that was around her gripping her sides until he was jabbed pretty roughly in the stomach by Daphne’s elbow as she reached across to hand Liam the sheet. Liam shot an amused glance at Emmett, plastered against Daphne’s back before adding, “We’ll definitely meet soon, Daphne. See you around?”

Daphne nodded adamantly, jostling Emmett’s grip a bit. “Yeah. See you around.” In something like 90210, the girl with starry-eyes would turn around, jaw dropped in excitement before squealing. Or maybe she would drop back against the nearest wall and sign with disbelief at her luck. Emmett would have preferred either of those to Daphne’s hands gently pulling Emmett’s hands from around her waist where they had been slowly, steadfastly pulling Daphne against his front and away from Liam.

            “Emmett, what’s going on? If you were attempting the Heimlich Maneuver, you’re doing it completely wrong. Your hands are way too low,” she added, like nothing had changed, like she hadn’t just practically had her arms around that guy right in front of him. Emmett shoved past her, ignoring the flush of warmth against his side and walked towards the front of school, knowing that Daphne was hurrying after him.

            Daphne met Liam Lupo on a Tuesday after Mr. Trainor’s English class on the same day Emmett met the only person to steal Daphne’s attention away from him. And Emmett didn’t like him one bit. 

* * *

 

At fourteen, Emmett supposed it was normal to dream about his best friend. At fifteen, he figured it was even normal to have wet dreams at sleepovers with his best friend…and oh so freakin’ unfortunate. At sixteen, he noticed it wasn’t that normal to have wet dreams at sleepovers with his best friend _about_ his best friend in the house where her mother trusted him fully. But when had Emmet ever been normal?

            He told himself it wasn’t really about Daphne, that he was interpreting it wrong. He tried to stop; always managing to either picture whatever girl that had looked at him twice that week or just resist the urge to jack off period. Daphne had always been comfortable around him, sometimes stripping off down to her camisole and jeans after school on a hot day. Her hair would loosen from her ponytail and she’d turn, her blue eyes sparking, and tell him a joke she was saving for him. It didn’t help that as he pictured another girl, he’d open his eyes to see a hundred pictures of her on his bulletin board that she sometimes even held the camera for. It got worse; he’d lose any sense of control over his lower half.

            Once, Daphne set him off without realizing it. He slept over at Daphne’s house when his mom and Cameron went to a couple’s therapy session and Regina had gone on a date and the two decided to make brownies. Emmett was ambling through the kitchen, searching for the ingredients. Daphne read the recipe, signing directions quickly, having him stop every few seconds to make sure he got everything before moving on.

"You know, I can read just as good as you can. I could be reading the recipe and you could be running around the kitchen like I am," he barked, or rather signed aggressively. He reached the flour in the top cabinet. He held back a sneeze from the dust that fell.

“Yeah, if you call that running, I’d hate to see what you’d do if there was a real emergency,” Daphne shot back, sending the familiar sting of pride through Emmett’s body. It had taken a while but Daphne was finally getting used to the fact that she was allowed to be rude and sarcastic to a friend. Meanwhile Emmett was still learning that he was allowed to get attached to someone, that they wouldn’t disappear the second he’d really started to care. “Will you just get over here so I can start?”

He stuck out his tongue at her, but he marched over obediently with the flour and watched as Daphne poured the right amount into a measuring cup. She handed it absently to Emmett and within seconds, Emmett sneezed, spraying flour everywhere, all over Daphne’s blue button-down.

Daphne paused, eyes clenched, flour whitening her long eyelashes and Emmett started laughing. He hadn’t gotten off completely clean, flour lining the bottom of his pant legs and t-shirt. “Sorry,” he stated, sarcasm bleeding through with the big smile plastered on his face. Daphne opened her eyes, a wicked tint to them and a smirk on her face.

Their flour fight was inevitable and the worst kind of messy. They’d raced and fought their way to the bathroom and Daphne forced him into the bathtub and turned the faucet on. She was too slow to close the door and lock Emmett in before she was yanked in by her powdered covered shirt. Daphne glared at him through wet eyelashes and she was drenched in cold water in minutes. They slipped and slid for a minute embellished by silent laughter.

“Emmett, you’re a jerk!” she said, trying to escape but Emmett trapped her in a half-assed embrace that allowed Daphne enough freedom to slither around the enclosed space, wet fabric adding weight. Daphne’s damp hair plastering Emmett’s neck and face made it a little hard to make out where he ended and Daphne began. But then again, it had always been that way.

“But you love me,” Emmett retorted, pulling Daphne harder against him trying to get her wetter still. Daphne growled lowly from the pit of her stomach and threw her weight into Emmett.

They slammed pretty hard into the tiled wall behind Emmett’s back but the small knot on the back of his head did nothing to stop Emmett from involuntarily thrusting into the sweet friction of Daphne’s hips against his. Emmett had clenched his eyes shut, trying to stifle a ragged moan. But Daphne wasn’t done, she pushed again trying to break Emmett’s grasp around her body and only achieving in reacquainting Emmett with the fact that Daphne was here, hot and drenched against his body, the top buttons of her shirt already undone from their struggle. And when Daphne tried again, Emmett barely managed to shove her back in time before he slammed his head into the wall and came with a strangled groan, lip caught in his teeth painfully.

And then Emmett had thanked God for both their deafness and Daphne’s naivete. “Emmett, are you okay? I didn’t know I pushed that hard. I’m sorry.” The genuine concern in her eyes forced a laugh out of Emmett’s mouth.

“I’m okay, Daphne,” he said while panting. He wasn’t really, he was wet and sticky, and he’d cracked his head pretty hard. He knew if he went to sleep that night in the same bed as Daphne (something Regina was trying to mend by purchasing an air mattress just for him which both teenagers abandoned after the first sleepover), so close to her warm body, he’d lose it all over again. Somehow, he convinced Daphne to let him take the first bath and he spent the time jerking off until the water went cold.

So, after that embarrassment, Emmett rationalized that there was no harm in giving in at home in his bed. When Daphne wasn't there.


End file.
